That Haunted Desire
by IsummonDemonsinyourcloset
Summary: Clary meets a strange boy at a club one night. After a brief encounter dancing together, an attraction is sparked. But Clary's mother poses a threat towards their slowly growing feelings. Especially when she reveals her plans to move Clary back to their home town, LA. M for; smut, alcohol, sexual references and swearing.


**That Haunted Desire**

**Chapter 1: Just one drink**

**Linebreak**

**Chapter songs:**

_**Just Dance; Lady Gaga**_

_**Me Against the Music; Britney Spears**_

_**Murder on the Dance Floor; Sophie Ellis-Bextor**_

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><p><strong>CPOV:<strong>

Clary sat on a stool against the bar. Her chapped lips were pressed to a glass of tequila. It was her first drink of the night, which she was kinda proud of, since usually, the moment she entered a club, she would be drunk off her ass. The trance music they were playing wafted around her along with snippets of conversation. None of it interested Clary. Her ragged sneaker tapped against the bar as she downed the rest of her drink.

The music changed abruptly, as it usually did, to a song that got her blood buzzing in her body. She swiped the cup off the counter- it shattered on the floor- and jumped onto the counter. A couple gasps were audible as her feet smacked onto the bar. Everyone froze but the music kept playing. Everyone was watching her.

Clary's feet swept out and smacked down on the counter in a rhythm. She matched her steps and movements with the music. She moved along the bar, people moving their glasses so she could dance on the counter. She kept expecting the anticipated cry of outrage from one of the staff. But no one stopped her.

Clary had almost reached the end of the counter when a figure from the crowd shifted and launched himself onto the bar. Clary paused, sizing him up. The boy moved his feet fluidly over the bar. He didn't say a word. Just danced. He was challenging her. Clary smiled.

And they danced. It was like they had choreographed it beforehand. It was like instinct. They used each other as mantels for their dance. They'd grab each-others hands and kick and spin, trying to win this unspoken battle. She grabbed his shoulders and used the boy as the base for a flip. He wasn't expecting it.

He fell back and landed with his hands balancing his body weight. She landed, standing between his legs. He immediately gave up. She placed a finger beneath his chin, forcing him to look up at her. Their eyes met and a sudden heat elapsed between them. She winked (Even though she was quite shaken, by the sudden flush on her cheeks) and flipped him back into the crowd.

The music ended immediately and she bowed when the crowd cheered and clapped. She hopped off the counter and the bartender offered her drinks on the house for the rest of the night. _Brilliant, _she thought as she accepted, _I shall celebrate by getting hideously drunk._

In the end she only had 3 more and the got up to leave. She pushed through the crowd and was immediately grabbed and pulled into an alcove in the wall.

She was pulled flush against a body, standing behind her. Fingers wrapped around her hips. The touch was vaguely familiar. She gasped and the boy chuckled.

"I need to talk to you," She nodded and matched his movements with her own, occasionally knocking his hips. She sighed and melted into him, loving the way that he moved them.

His voice was silky against her skin, making her shiver. She turned and moved back a bit. Now, where she could see him properly, she realised that the boy was actually quite handsome and his eyes were a strange molten gold colour. Like honey. Their gaze made her want to melt.

"Where did you learn to dance like that?" He asked, swaying a bit along with the song playing faintly in the club.

"I just picked it up, and you?"

"I took lessons when I was younger." His voice was firm. "What's your name?"

Clary smiled – genuinely smiled. "Clary."

"Jace," Golden boy answered in turn. "You do know that you're desirable, right?"

Clary raised her eyebrows- she'd always struggled with raising only one. "We've just met," She said in a low, cautious voice. "That's a little straight forward, don't you think?"

He shrugged. "It's true. I've seen you here before. I've seen the way that guys look at you, the way they dance with you. You're a little spectacular."

Clary stepped forward, leaving very little space between them. Her hands hesitantly rested on his chest. He sighed, almost contentedly.

"How old are you?" He asked, trying desperately to hide the strain from his voice.

"Nineteen," She said.

"I'm 21." Jace said. "Clary," She swallowed, not letting him know how amazing her name sounded rolling off his tongue.

Her phone buzzed, telling Clary her curfew had just arrived. "And that is my cue to go home." As she turned to walk away, his hand clamped over hers, holding it between them.

"When can I see you again?" Jace asked, his voice slightly husky. Desire to stay, to dance with danger lit her eyes. She wanted to stay.

"Sunday night, 9:00, I'll be at the bar." He leaned in and kissed her lightly on the cheek.

"Don't be late,"

"Never,"

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><p>The cold air blasted her hair away from her face, the smell of pollen light in the air. From Clary could tell from those few brief glances and the small moments where they had pressed against her cheek, his lips were cracked and chapped. Somehow, that was highly attractive.<p>

In all honesty, everything about him was attractive. The glint in his eye that told her he was bad news. The sexy sway of his hips. The carefully phrased words, rolling off his tongue, like the texture of silk-

"Where were you?" Her mother's angry voice smashed her thoughts and she surfaced to reality. Clary sighed and looked up at the landing of their apartment. Jocelyn Fray's silhouette was visible –and blinding- as she was standing in front of a light. Her auburn hair was tied into a simplistic bun at the back of her head and her green eyes were sharp, even in the midnight darkness. Bloody over-protective mother.

"I was at Pandemonium," Clary said shortly, climbing the stairs.

"I assumed. I was worried about you." Jocelyn's voice softened slightly.

"I'm only a couple minutes late,"

"You're 25 minutes late. I will only let you off so many times, Clarissa." Clary winced. When he mom used her full name she was really angry.

"Mom, I know you're angry, but I don't want to talk about it tonight. I'm tired and I'm going to bed."

And even as she walked into the apartment, she could feel Jocelyn's glare drilling into the back of her head.

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><p><strong>Hey! Um, this should be about a 10-15 chapter story. There will be smut and –as you might have noticed- quickly climbing Clace.<strong>

**Thanks!**

**Yours Truly, Gemma!**


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